


Chasing Ghosts

by TheCookieOfDoom



Series: Prompt Fills [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 08:52:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10987536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCookieOfDoom/pseuds/TheCookieOfDoom
Summary: Prompt Fill: Jon/Robert Baratheon - Robert Baratheon thought he'd forgotten Lyanna's face. But when he sees Ned Stark's bastard, it all comes rushing back.





	Chasing Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't EXACTLY follow the prompt, sadly I got a bit off track.
> 
> oh look, its nearly one am again! Ive been up since six am ;^;
> 
> Clealry I like Jon/literally anyone lmao (don't get me started on Jon/Mormont and my disgruntlement at the lack of content there)

The royal family was in Winterfell, and Jon was less than pleased. He was expected to skulk around unseen until they left. Before, it was as if he was unwanted. Now, it was as if he didn’t even exist, Catelyn going out of her way to ignore him, and see to it that her children did the same. 

Somehow, he found himself in the company of prince Tommen, the young boy having managed to sneak away from his mother--gods knew how he managed that, Cersei was a watchful one--to come find Ghost. Who, in turn, led Tommen to Jon, who had no idea what to do with him. He just kind of stood there, staring as the child pulled at Ghost’s fur and chased his tail. 

“Your Highness,” Jon said, perplexed at the situation that he wanted no part in. “You need to go back to your mother.”

“I don’t want to. I want to play with your dog,” he said, sweetly. He was so unlike the rest of his family, it was already apparent even in his young age. And Jon didn’t have anything to say to that, since the boy outranked him and Jon was technically supposed to do as the little prince wished. 

“He’s not a dog,” he finally said, going to sit down on the floor with Tommen, resigned to his fate. “He’s a direwolf.”

“That’s the sigil of House stark, right?” 

“Yes.”

“But you’re not a Stark.”

“No.”

“Then why do you have one?” 

“I found him, and lord Stark kindly let me keep him.” 

“I wish my father would let me have a direwolf,” Tommen said, petting Ghost’s head. The wolf was soaking up the attention happily, nuzzling Tommen’s hand and barking softly. The princeling giggled, wrapping his arms around Ghost’s neck, and despite himself, Jon smiled. “Are all direwolves this nice?” 

“No. And Ghost isn’t usually nice, either. He must really like you,” Jon said. Ghost did something like a huff, shaking his head before knocking it against Tommen. The boy fell backwards and Ghost laid down, his head and paw resting heavy on the boys stomach. He looked over at Jon as if to say  _ yes, I  _ do _. Are you jealous?  _ And Jon laughed along with Tommen at the wolf’s antics. 

But it was late into the night, and it wasn’t long before the little prince was beginning to fall asleep. When Jon insisted he return to his parents custody again, he didn’t refuse. He also didn’t get up from where he was using Ghost as a pillow, making Jon pick him up to carry him out, like he’d done with the younger Stark children countless times before. By the time they were back in the hall where the reveling was still going on, Tommen was snoring away softly, arms wrapped around Jon, head on his shoulders. 

Catelyn wasn’t pleased to see him with the sleeping prince in his arms. In fact, no one was; a bastard had no place in the company of royalty. He ignored her, acting more confident than he felt as he approached Cersei. The lioness queen watched him as if ready to pounce, fire in her eyes; she didn’t want this unknown man around her son, and he could understand that.

“He was wandering about the keep, Your Highness, when my wolf found him,” Jon said. It didn’t dampen the fire in her eyes one bit. “I can take him to his chambers if you tell me where they are.” Tommen lifted his head. woken by the loud sounds of the hall that were beginning to lessen as they recognized just who Jon was, shocked that he not only dared lay a hand on the prince, but now addressed the queen. When the prince voiced his protest tiredly, Jon hushed him gently, rubbing his back, sending Tommen soon back to sleep. He had a knack for taking care of children, it would seem, not that that particular talent would ever had a chance to get used to its full potential. 

“Absolutely not,” Cersei said, but was silenced by the king, who had been watching Jon with hazy interest since he walked in holding his son. He pushed the serving girl off his lap and stood, gesturing for Jon to follow. 

“Nonsense, woman. This way, boy. Come on now, haven’t got all night, I want to talk to you.” 

Looking between them, Cersei looking at him like she wanted to tear his head from his shoulders, and Robert looking like he wanted to tear his clothes from his body--he told himself that was just an effect of having been pawing at that poor serving girl only moments before--he hesitated for a moment before going to follow the king, praying to the Old Gods that he didn’t find a knife in his bed when he turned in for the night. He wouldn’t put it past the queen, her viciousness was just as legendary as the Targaryen’s. 

He put Tommen to bed, the king saying precious little during the walk to his chambers. No, he just stared at Jon, watching him with a look in his eyes that Jon couldn’t quite decipher, but he didn’t think he liked it. It was as if Robert were seeing the ghost of someone he had once known, and perhaps even loved. Only, Jon wasn’t a ghost, he was a living young man. 

“Well, if that will be all, Your Highness,” he said, turning to take his leave. Robert followed him, catching him by his arm before he could escape down the hall. 

“Not so fast boy,” he said, pulling Jon back and all but throwing him back against the wall. Jon hit with a groan, wincing. He forgot how strong Robert really was, despite the fact that he didn’t look it. 

“So, you’re Ned’s bastard.” Jon bristled, wanting to leave but unable to with Robert keeping him pressed back against the wall, one meaty hand on his shoulder. 

“I have a name,” he said, just shy of spitting the words. ‘Ned Stark’s Bastard’ all but was his name, it seemed, as much as he hated it. Like a nickname he wanted nothing to do with, except it wasn’t born of affection. 

“Jon Snow,” Robert drawled, getting too close to Jon for his liking. Perhaps if he were younger, Jon would be more receptive; he had heard how the king had once been muscular and devastatingly handsome, when he was young and fighting a war with Jon’s father. Now, he was just an unkind, drunken old man old enough to be Jon’s father. Well, it wasn’t really his age that was off putting, Jon had always been attracted to older men; repressed father issues, most likely. No, what put Jon off was how the king kept looking through him, as if seeing someone else in Jon’s stead. 

“You ever been with a man, Jon Snow?” 

His stomach drop, and he was almost sure he paled a few shades at the sudden question. He knew there was only one reason for the king to be asking him that. 

“No. I don’t--that’s--I’m not--” Sure, he had thought about it. More than he probably should, but what did it really matter? He was already a bastard, which was significantly worse than preferring the company of men. 

“Don’t lie to me, boy. I’ve seen the way you look at your brother’s friend, that Greyjoy lad.” Jon blushed at having been so transparent--although it wasn’t Theon he was looking at, no, the object of his affections was far more shameful--and Robert laughed a deep bellow. 

“Not sweet on you, that one, is he?” 

“No, Your Highness.” 

“Shame. You’re pretty as a maid; his loss.” 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, but I really need to be going now--”

“I think I’ll grace you with the pleasure of my company a bit longer, Jon Snow,” Robert said, his voice gruff. A bear would suit him far better than a stag. He pulled Jon off of the wall and into his and Cersei’s chambers, pushing him towards the bed. Jon, unable to stand against his strength, stumble back and fell onto the blankets when his legs hit the edge of the bed. “Take off your clothes,” Robert ordered. 

“Your Highness, this is  _ very  _ inappropriate--you’re married!”  _ More importantly, your wife will kill me, slowly and painfully, for seducing you!  _ Even though Jon definitely hadn’t done any seducing, nor would he want to, when this man was simply chasing a ghost. 

“Take off your clothes,” he repeated, stalking forward like a predator about to pounce on his prey. “That’s an order from your  _ king _ , boy.” 

With a tremble in his hands, Jon did as he was told, unlacing his shirt and shrugging it off, followed by his undershirt. He didn’t bother trying to go slow, be sexy, like he might if he were with someone else. He disrobed as if it was just for bed; quick and efficient. But when he got to his pants, he stopped. 

“Hurry up, we haven’t got all night.” 

“Why me?” Jon blurted. “Why not that serving girl you were all over? She was pretty.” More importantly, she was  _ not him _ , as selfish as it sounded. But he didn’t want to lose his virginity to someone he didn’t even know, someone who’s wife would literally have him  _ executed _ when she found out. Because she would, there was no doubt. 

But then the king’s eyes softened, tenderness showing through the haze of drunken lust. “Because you remind me of the woman I loved, a long time ago.” 

That…. Jon wasn’t sure how to feel about that. When he thought about what his first time would be like, he never imagined being someone’s stand-in. But when Robert looked at him like that, like he was someone the king loved, cherished, he thought that he could live with it. When would there ever be someone to look at him that way? 

Decision made, Jon took off the rest of his clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a pile, and moved back on the bed. “Tell me what to do.” 

Robert smiled at him, a real smile, and went to take a vial off of the nightstand that Jon hadn’t noticed before. He pulled the stopper and poured the viscous liquid over his fingers, oil by the looks of it, as he came to join Jon on the bed. “Spread your legs, gorgeous.” 

Jon let Robb prepare him, wincing at the strange new sensation. It didn’t exactly feel good, at first, but it didn’t hurt, at least. 

“You can call me her name,” Jon said, as Robert got between his legs; Jon couldn’t even wrap them all the way around him, though he tried. When Robert thrust into him, cock hard and slick with oil, it wasn’t Lyanna’s name he moaned. 

The king didn’t fuck him like a whore, as men did when pretending their lover was another; Robert made love to him like he was the love of his life. It was overwhelming, the feeling of his fat cock coupled with his kind treatment. Jon could barely take it, and tears were blurring his vision, unbidden, as he wrapped his arms around the king’s neck to tangle in his hair and hold him close, eyes clenched shut. While the king didn’t call Jon by name, nor did Jon call him by name. But the man didn’t notice; there was not much difference between Rob and  _ Robb  _ after all. 

***

“They’ve been gone long enough,” Cersei said, getting up and gathering her skirts, going after them. She had seen the way her husband looked at that bastard the moment he came in, and she didn’t like it. She knew what her husband saw; not a bastard child, but his precious Lyanna holding his youngest son, as it always should have been. Robert had never shown interest in any man before, but never had he been presented with such a pretty young boy that looked so like his dead love. 

Ned and Catelyn followed her out, and Robb soon joined as well when he heard Jon’s name mentioned. 

Indeed, the other’s may not have heard what Jon meant when he screamed the shortened form of the king’s name, audible down the hall, but all Robb heard was his brother crying out his own name. Cersei threw open the door with an enraged screech, finding her husband balls deep in Jon Snow, moaning Lyanna’s name in a way he’d never said her own. 

Jon scrambled away as if the king was on fire, drawing the blanket up around him and looking at the gathered party with true fear in his eyes. Cersei’s were lit with rage, Ned with disappointment--and something akin to betrayal as he looked at his best friend--Catelyn with disgust. And Robb, Robb looked at Jon with hurt in his eyes, but also understanding. They would talk about this later, Jon knew, if he somehow managed to keep hold of his life.

“I want him executed!” Cersei barked. She took Robert disgracing her with grace as he whored around the seven kingdoms. But this,  _ this  _ was a slight she could not bare. 

“Hold your tongue, woman--”

“No. You will not protect your boywhore now. I demand his life as payment for this disgrace!” 

Jon looked between them, trying to appear as small as possible beneath the furs, as if he would disappear. But before any action could be taken, he pushed past his parents and the queen, going to stand between them and Jon, who cowered behind him as they argued over whether or not he was to live. 

“It’s not his fault!” Robb insisted. “He was unable to say no, he couldn’t refuse the king anymore than his whores could!”

“I will not stand for him to get away without punishment,” Cersei hissed. 

“I’ll see to it that he is adequately disciplined.” It was not Ned that spoke, but Catelyn. The women shared a look, and Cersei relaxed just a bit, knowing Catelyn would be true to her word. Ned agreed with his wife, giving his word that Jon would pay for his transgressions. 

The king threw Jon his clothes and he hastily pulled on his pants before leaving with Robb, not wanting to stay long enough to get properly dressed. When Robb had Jon safely locked in his room, where no one could get to him, Robb turned to him with sincerity or concern. 

“Did he force himself on you?” he asked immediately. 

“Yes--I mean  _ no _ \--I mean. It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“It’s not complicated. Did he force you? Threaten you?”

“No, he was…” 

“What?”

“Kind. He didn’t hurt me. He said I reminded him of Lyanna…” 

“ _ Seven hells, _ Jon. Why did you let him touch you?” 

“I don’t know.”  _ Because I could have him, if only for a little while, but I can never have you.   _

“Cersei’s going to have you killed. She’ll just hire someone, if she needs to.

“I’m going to go to the Wall. Her influence can’t reach me there.” 

“ _ What _ ? That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?” 

No, no that was perfect. He would go to the Wall and Cersei would have no claim to his life. He would be far away from the Starks, and Robb in particular, so that he couldn’t disgrace his half-brother. He could end this before it even really began, before whatever was between them had a chance to really turn into anything. 

The royal family left early. While they were to head south, Jon would be riding north, for the Wall. When Robert kissed him goodbye with a mumbled  _ ‘Lyanna’ _ , in front of all of Winterfell, Jon couldn’t ride fast enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> okay but here's an idea I kept thinking of while writing this: Robert promises to legitimize Jon as a Stark, under one condition- Jon must serve as his personal sex slave for a year or so/whenever the king wants him


End file.
